Twilight Rewrite: Daybreak
by Onionbreath002
Summary: Twilight, rewritten by 6 drunk people, now with more plot. Edward Cullen fights an ancient curse, one that would bring about a terrible abomination. As he struggles against the old ones and his own primal nature, one girl will rise to be his salvation.


Prologue - The Book of Nosferatu

_1243 – Ruins of Bran Castle_

Eight weeks, fifteen hundred kilometers, mountains of gold florins, 27 bodies. Somehow, Stephen Meyer expected the sight before him to justify the cost of reaching this place. Having been sacked by the Mongol Hordes but a summer prior, the ruins of the once grand Bran Castle have quickly been retaken by mother nature.

Meyer sighed. He was an English holy man, exiled from his own country for partaking in what his countrymen called "dark arts."

'Imbeciles...' Meyer had thought. 'Backwater imbeciles.'

For a year, he wandered from land to land, begging for food and coin; often stealing to survive. Europe was under great siege by the Mongolian Hordes of Asia. Countless villages, cities, castles, even countries fell to the ruthless onslaught of these barbarians on horseback. Then suddenly, as quickly as the invasion began, it ended. The leader of the Horde died. The Mongol invasion stopped as its leaders returned to their homeland to "vote" in the new Khan. Europe began to flourish.

It was then that Meyer ventured into Italy. There he met a curious group who proclaimed themselves the Volturi. They believed in a similar spiritual power as Meyer did. Meyer, sensing that his time had finally come, quickly curried favor with the Volturi leaders. They were impressed with his knowledge and wisdom. He soon became their leader.

That was two months ago. Now Meyer simple led a group of disgruntled Italians on what seemed to be a wild goose chase. The Volturi Aro made his displeasure clear.

"Englishman. You say the writings of Nosferatu are hidden here." Aro said, glaring pointedly at Meyer. "There is nothing here. The Hordes have burned everything. My people have died on this mad quest of yours for moss covered rocks?"

'Indeed, the Hordes had burned Bran Castle to the ground.' Meyer thought inwardly.

"That is true Aro." Meyer agreed. "However, what we seek lies not within the former castle or these, as you say, moss covered rocks, but beneath."

"Beneath?" Someone called

Meyer gestured towards a steward near a supply wagon in the back of their caravan. "James, distribute the tools if you will."

The young man disappeared into the covered wagon only to emerge moments later carrying several shovels. Aro saw this and turned towards Meyer disbelievingly.

"You expect us to dig for the book?"

Meyer shook his head. "I expect you to dig for the true Bran Castle."

* * *

The "true" Bran Castle was a large wooden door buried under the foundation of the "other" Bran Castle. It took Meyer, Aro, James and 4 other able bodied men of the Volturi 3 days to find the entrance. Once again, the Volturi, blue blooded Italians as they are, were disappointed. Meyer was beginning to tire of their preference for the gaudy, especially if they desire to become immortal.

As Meyer descended into the true Castle, he chuckled at the bare simplicity that Lord Nosferatu styled his alter. A rope ladder extended 6 meters down onto a platform. From there, a torch chandelier was readily available for lighting. Once lit, Meyer peered into the dark cavern to see a winding stairwell that descended through a large chamber. Even with the topmost chandelier lit fully, the bottom cannot be seen. Several platforms with more chandeliers can be seen jutting from the side of the cavern.

Meyer waited as James and Aro helped the women, children and elderly onto the platform. He quickly passed out torches as Aro instructed a man to shut the doors behind them. Somewhere in the back of Meyer's mind, his instincts were yelling at him that this was a bad idea. The cavern, the power, he could sense an energy that can only be described as dark, voided... evil. He wondered briefly if his former brethren in England weren't simply being daft.

Yet despite his misgivings, Meyer cannot suppress his curiosity, and his desire for the seductive power permeating from the cavern. Raising a torch high above his head, he waved for his followers and pressed downwards into the darkness.

Minutes passed, hours, days, weeks perhaps. Meyer did not know how long they have traveled. The stairs were endless. He wondered if the magic of the cavern was distorting his sense of time and distance.

They had lost one, a young girl who had collapsed on the stairwell. Aro had ordered she be left there. He seems convinced that once they had obtained the power, they would able to resurrect her. Meyer had his doubts. The Italians place too much stock in the journal of an ancient Master of the Arts. Despite his power, Lord Nosferatu might have carried his secrets to the grave.

They approached another platform. Meyer had lost count how many it had been since the top. Stiffly, he waved James forward to light the chandelier.

As the light slowly pierced the darkness, a quiet rumbling touched Meyer's ears. He dismissed it at first as his own, misguided thoughts. Soon though, the rumbling grew to a cheer. Meyer looked up at James waving excitedly into the lighted abyss. He leaned over and looked down, doing a double take as his eyes landed on a glint of light reflecting off a golden alter.

Suddenly, the entire group had renewed stamina as everyone raced down the remaining stairs. Thoughts of forbidden magic, false hope and death gone from his mind as Meyer realized how tantalizing close he was to immortality, to power...

---

_1230 – London, England_

"Uncle..."

Stephen Meyer grasped the tiny hand that reached for him, urging his tears to stay within his eyes.

"It'll be okay Corrine... God will save you. God will make you all right... Corrine... just stay strong and believe."

"I feel cold uncle Stephen..."

The tears leaked slightly. Stephen Meyer tucked the worn blanket closer around young Corrine Meyer, daughter of his dead brother and sister-in-law. He doted on the girl whom he raised since infancy after the loss of her parents. Being a man of the church, he cannot have children, but Corrine might as well be his daughter.

"I'm here Corrine." Stephen's voice cracked. "Uncle Stephen is here. It'll be okay Corrine."

"Will I see mommy again?"

Wet trails glistened down his cheek as Stephen held the dying girl tightly to his chest. "Your mommy and daddy are watching over you. They'll wait for you always... they want to see you grow old and give them many grandchildren Corrine."

Corrine coughed violently. Dark crimson blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Stephen quickly wiped it up with a towel. Corrine smiled weakly at her uncle.

"It's okay uncle Stephen. Mommy, daddy and I will wait for you too."

"No Corrine..."

"You'll become the next Pope... then you can ask God how we're doing."

"Corrine..."

"And we'll all be waiting for you too..."

Violent coughs wrecked the girl as her body began to shut down. Corrine's eyes slowly closed. Her breathing labored, her voice raspy. Stephen Meyer heard three more words.

"I love you...U....."

One last rasping breath.

Silence.

Meyer's tears flowed freely as he clutched the tiny body against him, blood from her mouth staining his robes and collar.

"No... … no.... ..." His anguish overtook him.

"CORRINE!!!!!"

---

_1243 – Alter of Nosferatu_

The Alter was simple enough. A golden platform with a single podium where a heavy black tome rested. The Volturi had gathered around the alter, singing praises and praying. Meyer himself had approached the alter.

The presence of magic was thick, tangible. It set every nerve in Stephen's body on edge. Strange thoughts and images began floating through his head. Shapes, colors... screams...

Nosferatu.

Meyer was terrified. He was wrong. They were all wrong. Or perhaps the Volturi knew all along what the power entailed. Dark, Cold, Void, Hate... Blood. His left hand plunged into his cloak and clutched at a bloodstained rag.

A voice screamed in his head... "Blood.... BLOOD!!!"

His feet, his hands and his legs moved on their own accord. Meyer could not resist. He walked closer to the alter. His left hand left the recesses of his cloak, dragging the blood stained rag out into the open. It caught the wind and hovered over his head. His right hand reached for the book. Tome of Nosferatu.

He couldn't stop now. The power was in his grasp. The book was in his hands. It flipped open. A glowing magic circle stared up coldly at him. Stephen Meyer turned to the Volturi who looked up at him with near euphoric adulation.

"MAKE US IMMORTAL! GRANT US THE POWER!" Aro cried.

Meyer smiled, exposing long upper canines nearly twice the length they were moments ago. His skin paled and the air around him reached frigid temperatures. The sweat on his skin crystallized into ice.

Stephen Meyer cast his crimson pupils upon the Volturi.

"Copii de Singe"

Children of Blood.

The bloodied rag burned in a crimson flame. As the ashes floated down around Meyer's head, what were once human eyes now cast their crimson gaze upon him.

Nosferatu's Citadel once again echoed with souless laughter.


End file.
